


Canter

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 10:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21177863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis visits the chocobo stables.





	Canter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s not exactly a beautiful day out. It’s overcast and a little chilly. But Noctis has a craving that can only be itched in the chocobo stables, so he ditches his tutoring early to head on down, black jacket on and boots ready to go. He turns his phone off, because he gets interrupted enough when he’s trying to ride, and when he’s out on the track, Ignis will have to ride out after him to drag him home. Then again, if the right stable boy isn’t around, he probably won’t bother going out at all.

But the right stable boy is around—Noctis can spot him from halfway across the enormous space. He’s not even really a _boy_—he’s Noctis age, twenty, but from public school instead of fancy tutors, and he gets to wear regular things like jeans and an old band t-shirt instead of the designer clothes Noctis had thrust on him. The young man’s easy to find, because his hair’s as yellow as the chocobo feathers scattered everywhere. He looks up when he hears Noctis coming, poised over a pile of hay with his pitchfork still stuck in it. 

He smiles even brighter than Noctis does, dimpling his freckled cheeks and making his blue eyes shine. Noctis doesn’t care if he’s a commoner—he’s _gorgeous_, and the exact sort of thing Noctis wistfully dreams about when he’s feeling most trapped. The only thing that ruins is it is Prompto dipping into a clumsy bow and greeting, “Your Highness.”

“Noct,” Noctis corrects, like he does every time. Someday, Prompto’s going to feel comfortable enough to drop the title and just treat him like the friend—or more—that he wants to be, but it’s clearly going to take a while. Noctis doesn’t blame him. The glaives are in and out of the stables way more than Noctis is, and all it would take is one witness to get Prompto fired. Noctis would fight it, of course, but nobody ever listens to him. If they did, he would’ve gone to a regular school with cuties like Prompto instead of being holed up in his father’s study all day.

There’s a good, long moment where they just look at each other, which is fine, because that’s all Noctis really wanted anyway. The chocobos are nice, but Prompto’s better company. Then Prompto nods towards the stalls at the back and asks, “Do you want to take one out?”

“Yup,” Noctis lies, then risks adding: “I’d really like something new and cute to ride.”

Prompto’s cheeks flush a subtle pink—clearly, the implication isn’t lost on him. But he answers properly anyway: “Well, if you ask me, all chocobos are cute. But we don’t have any new ones. Still, I can have any of your favourites ready in a jiffy...”

Noctis glances over his shoulder. No one’s there. They’re alone. Prompto’s still smiling. Noctis decides to take his chances. “Really? Because I always see my favourite one down here, and I’m always wondering if he’s ready for a ride...”

That should be a major clue. All of Noctis’ favourite chocobos are female. Prompto must know that. He bites his bottom lip, chewing it slowly as he stares at Noctis, and it takes him a second to counter, “Well, if you could be more specific, and tell me how you want him ready...”

“Full gear,” Noctis suggests, eyes pointedly sweeping down Prompto’s lean form while he pictures Prompto in nothing but a leash and harness. “He doesn’t even have to be properly trained; I’ll take a rough session if you think I should break him in right... or I can be gentle, if he’s skittish...”

Prompto audibly swallows. His fingers have tightened around the pitchfork’s handle; Noctis can see how tense Prompto’s become. But he doesn’t break eye contact. He slowly answers, “I don’t know... wouldn’t I get in trouble if I gave you a bad ride...?”

“Oh, you’d never give me a bad ride, Prompto. I’m sure of that.” 

Prompto finally looks away, glancing sideways, and Noctis follows his gaze to see an empty stall padded with hay. If they bolted the swinging door shut behind them, kept their heads low, and kept their voices down, they could probably get away with it. The stalls are plenty large and well cleaned; they could make it work. 

Prompto opens his mouth. Noctis is sure he’s getting somewhere. But then Prompto suddenly straightens up and snaps, “Good morning, Sir!”

Noctis glances over his shoulder. Cor’s walked in. He greets, “Good morning, Argentum. Your Highness.”

Noctis grunts back and tries not to glare. Normally, he likes Cor just fine. In this particular moment, he’s never resented anyone so much. Cor asks Prompto, “Is Lightning available?”

“Of course!” Prompto splutters, before adding to Noctis, “I, uh, can have Fang ready for you in a moment, too!” 

Noctis blinks and dazedly mutters, “Okay.” Fang’s nice. Prompto would’ve been ten times better.

He tries not to sulk as Prompto goes about his business, and then Noctis is up on their best black chocobo and riding out in the wild, begrudgingly trying to work out faster pick up lines.


End file.
